Page 99 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“Yes.” EJ’s suggestion. Along with a side of drama.
“If I purchase ten tickets, and we then get a hot actor to attend, we could scalp these tickets and you could raise even more money,” EJ had said.
“I don’t want to know.”
“You leave it with me.”
Liv had, but she couldn’t help wonder if EJ had actually not been teasing. The woman might be savvy with her computer skills, but sourcing “hot actors” felt way out of even EJ’s league.
She spent the morning helping set up the Orangery, festooning it with hundreds of fairy lights and flowers and white ribbons, so it looked not unlike what she’d seen in pictures from that time.
The Hall itself had been polished to high perfection, and even though the gardens were pretty bare with some of the more tender shrubs now wrapped in their protective winter coats, they still possessed that formal beauty that drew appreciative glances.
“It will go well,” she murmured. “It will go—”
“Liv.”
She jumped and laughed, gently slapping Liam on the chest. “Why do you have to keep scaring me like that?”
“Why do you have to be so easy to scare?” he teased.
Oh, she loved this relaxed banter with him, the light in his eyes, the joy. He was a completely different man to the one she’d first come to know.
“Is everything set?”
“I think so. I’ve got a list, and I’m checking it twice—”
He smiled. “You and your lists.”
“It gets things done.”
He tugged her closer. “Did I tell you how much I appreciate you?”
“A few times.” She curled around to face him, her hands on his collar. He clasped them, flattening her hands to his chest then gently rubbing them to keep them warm. So thoughtful.
Her phone buzzed. “I should get that.”
“In a second. I just want to make the most of this moment before the rush of everything takes us away again.”
Stealing a moment of stillness was good, so she closed her eyes and breathed in peace. Breathed in his scent of earth and eucalypt. The comfort of honest dependability. She so appreciated this man who might be battle scarred but was real. He was who he said he was. Someone trying to make the world a better place. Just like she was.
“Liv.” His voice was husky, and she opened her eyes. His had darkened. “I know it’s a big day, but I want to tell you—”
“Liv?” Stella. “Oh, sorry for interrupting. I just tried to call you. We have an emergency.”
Liv pulled reluctantly away as Stella kept talking.
“The van with the string quartet has broken down, and …”
Her mind, ever quick to jump to problem solving, started spinning, and she moved from Liam’s arms, kissing her fingers then pressing them on his lips, before following Stella from the space. Outside, the temperature difference was noticeable, and for the first time she felt a frisson of fear that perhaps people might not come. She hoped they would. People who had invested as much money, time, and effort into getting their costumes and booking nearby accommodation wouldn’t want to lose that because it might sleet. Would they?
The questions chased her through the morning, pecked at her during lunch, then trailed her as she returned to Gran’s to shower and change. She hadn’t seen Liam again, so she still didn’t know what he wanted to say, but perhaps that mysterious sparkle would be answered tonight.
Tonight. She shivered. It would go perfectly. “In Jesus’ name.”
The Hall needed it. The trust needed it. She needed it. “Lord, have Your way.”
Liv drew on the white elbow-length gloves and eyed herself in the mirror. Gran had loaned her the gloves and amethyst cross necklace—bought at the Jane Austen Centre in Bath—but Liv had found the dress at a vintage boutique in London, when she’d visited the city with George last weekend and found a special shop in Notting Hill.
